


Tag to "The Heroes Journey" (15x10)

by Alvinola



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Rubs, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Lactose Intolerance, M/M, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22419142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvinola/pseuds/Alvinola
Summary: Dean can't handle his newly acquired lactose intolerance very well.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resists writing a tag to this week's episode of Supernatural. In fact, I'm thinking about writing some more short stories about how Dean's dealing (or NOT dealing) with being lactose intolerant. Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in!

“Dude, _another_ one? Aren’t you full yet?”

Dean looked at his brother, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. With a smirk, Dean took a hearty bite out of his sixth grilled cheese and chewed it loudly. It practically melted on his tongue and he let out a low moan. Sam just rolled his eyes and glanced back down at the map on his phone.

When they pulled up in front of the rundown warehouse a few minutes later, Dean reached into the brown paper bag once more and pulled out the last of the delicious sandwiches Garth’s wife had prepared for them. His brother only let out a huff and got out of the car, snagging the sleeve of his jacket on the edge of the door. Dean sniggered.

Dean unfolded himself from the Impala and grunted when he straightened up. His stomach felt way heavier standing up than it did sitting down, and he wondered if stuffing himself full of cheese and bread had really been such a great idea.

“Dean, come on. We gotta move,” Sam called from the car’s trunk.

Giving his belly an encouraging pat, Dean joined his brother. He quickly stuffed the remaining grilled cheese in his mouth and swallowed it, because there was no way he’d let Sam know that he was kind of uncomfortable after eating half a dozen pieces of toast and what felt like ten pounds of cheese.

The brothers made their way into the warehouse, wary of every noise. The place was supposed to be crawling with monsters and, right now, they didn’t really have the skills to take on a mob of angry beasts.

Dean tried his best to focus solely on the case. However, the more he moved around, the worse his stomach felt. He felt an almost painful pressure built below his ribs and when he passed a hand over his belly, he noticed how distended it was.

He jumped when something clanked and rattled to his left, and spun around. Sam glanced at him with an apologetic expression, as he picked up the metal bucket he’d kicked over by accident.

“You forget how to walk?” Dean huffed.

Sam was about to say something, when a loud, gurgling noise echoed through the large building. Dean winced and pressed a hand to his rumbling stomach.

“What was that?” Sam asked, frowning.

Dean let out a quiet burp and rubbed his palm over his upset belly. He suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time and nausea swirled in his gut. “Not good, that’s—” A swell of bile rushed up his esophagus and he swallowed it back down.

His stomach kept gurgling sickly, prompting Sam to put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Dean gagged a little and quickly pressed a clenched fist to his mouth. He fought to keep the nausea under control, but it was a losing battle. He was going to be sick.

“I gotta go…” he choked out and dropped the bag he was carrying.

“Go?” Sam repeated, as Dean twisted himself out of his grasp.

“Bathroom…” Dean gagged, and took off down the dimly lit hallway. He heard Sam’s concerned voice calling after him, but ignored it.

By the time Dean made it to a restroom, he was barely able to walk upright anymore. His stomach was cramping fiercely and the nausea made him feel incredibly dizzy. Drenched in a cold sweat, he drove his shoulder into one of the locked bathroom doors and stumbled into the filthy stall. His knees folded underneath him and he barely managed to hunch over the toilet bowl, before he got violently ill. Partly digested grilled cheese poured out of his mouth and he wrapped an arm around his heaving gut. It felt like his stomach was about to burst.

The sound of the door creaking open made Dean lift his spinning head. “Sam?” he croaked, and waited. Nothing. “Sammy?”

Another cramp seized his stomach and he gripped the toilet bowl more tightly. The waistband of his jeans dug uncomfortably into the lower part of his belly and he adjusted it with trembling fingers. “Oh, please, just kill me now,” he groaned.

The door to the stall suddenly flew open and Dean looked over his shoulder. However, instead of his brother, he came face to face with a stranger, who was pointing a gun at him. Dean needed to defend himself, but his gut roiled again and he went back to puking up the contents of his stomach.

“Dean!”

Dean looked up when he heard his brother’s worried voice and almost fell when the stranger pushed the barrel of the gun between his shoulder blades. “Move!” he growled, forcing him to step into the round cage in the middle of the empty warehouse. The man gave him one last shove, sending Dean stumbling into Sam’s arms.

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asked, as soon as the stranger left them alone.

Clutching his brother’s jacket to keep upright, Dean grimaced. “Been better.”

Sam gently lowered both their bodies to the stained ground and had them lean against the wired fence. Dean wanted to protest, because they were now held captive and that was never a good thing, but he felt like utter crap and he was pretty sure that pulling off a successful escape wasn’t very likely right now.

“Sammy, I think I’m dying…” Dean moaned dramatically. Despite having thrown up most of what he’d eaten, he was still bloated and sick. If anything, his belly felt even fuller.

“You’re not dying,” Sam sighed. “At least not from this.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his sour stomach. “Easy for you to say…” He wanted to add more, because he was in a bad mood and felt like shit. But his gut had other ideas and twisted again, causing him to double over in pain. “Son of a bitch!”

“Does it still hurt?”

Dean glared at his brother. “What do _you_ think?” he grunted.

“Alright, come on,” Sam said and tugged at his arm.

“What are you doing?” Dean grumbled and tried to shrug off his brother’s hand.

Sam huffed out a breath. “Stop fighting me. Come on, put your head on my shoulder.”

Dean wanted to argue that this was neither the place nor the time for a cuddling session, but he was just exhausted and sick enough to allow his brother to manhandle him.

“Just relax for a bit,” Sam said quietly, and carded the fingers of his right hand through Dean’s sweat-soaked hair. He put his other hand on Dean’s aching stomach and began to rub soothing circles.

“I shouldn’t have eaten so much…” Dean admitted.

Sam chuckled. “I don’t think that’s the issue, man. I think you’re lactose intolerant now.”

“I’m _what_?!” Dean shouted, and promptly belched.

“Calm down,” Sam sighed and gave his belly a gentle squeeze. “Your stomach is cramping, you’re horribly bloated and you threw up after eating an obscene amount of cheese. I think it’s kinda obvious.”

Pouting, Dean looked down at his brother’s large palm, which was splayed over his swollen belly. “But I don’t wanna be lactose intolerant.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix this,” Sam promised with a smile in his voice. “But, until then, just give me a warning before you’re gonna puke. I’m pretty fond of this shirt.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t object. He slumped against his brother’s side and appreciated the comforting circles Sam rubbed against his tight belly. They would get out of this mess and get their luck and skills back. They were Winchesters, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean are on their way to Alaska, when they run into a bit of trouble along the way.

Sam jerked awake when the Impala drove off the smooth road and rumbled over gravel. The car came to an abrupt halt, throwing him forward. With a yelp, he flung out his right arm to catch himself against the dashboard, causing his wrist to twist painfully.

By the time he’d gathered his bearings and looked over at Dean, his brother had already thrown open the door and was halfway out of the vehicle. “What the hell, man?!” Sam shouted after him, shaking out his smarting hand.

Completely ignoring his brother, Dean walked a few feet away and stopped near a row of bushes. Sam squinted into the darkness, trying to figure out what was happening. They were in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch-dark. Pulling out his phone, he checked the time. 3:18 AM.

Shoving his cell back in his pocket, Sam looked up. Dean hadn’t moved an inch. “Dude, what are you doing?” he yelled. At first, he’d thought his brother was just relieving himself, but when he didn’t return to the car after a full two minutes, Sam got suspicious.

When Dean didn’t offer any explanation, Sam huffed out a breath and shoved his door open. A shiver shook his body as soon as he was outside, and he pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He had no idea where exactly they were, but based on the cold temperature, they were much further north than earlier.

“Dean, it’s freezing out here. What the hell are you waiting for?” he asked, as he trudged up to his brother. The icy wind penetrated his thin jacket easily and his shivering increased. “Dean!” he barked impatiently, when Dean stubbornly refused to answer.

Sam was just about to grip his brother’s shoulder and spin him around, when Dean doubled over and projectile vomited into the nearby bushes.

“Whoa!” Sam gasped and took a staggering step back. He almost tripped over a twig and just barely managed to stay on his feet.

While Dean continued to forcefully expel the contents of his stomach, Sam jogged back to the Impala and grabbed a bottle of water from the backseat. He was about to head back to his sick brother, when something caught his eye.

Bending down, Sam reached for the empty coffee cup that was lying on the car’s floorboard. It wasn’t his, and he was pretty sure it hadn’t been there before. Dean must have gotten it somewhere along the way while Sam had been asleep.

Popping open the lid, Sam peered inside. His face hardened.

With a huff, he dropped the cup and backed out of the car.

“Which part of _lactose intolerant_ do you not understand?” he growled, as he approached his brother’s hunched over form.

“What?” Dean croaked, squinting. Even in the dim light provided by the car’s headlights, Sam saw how pale and drained his brother looked, and he almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._

“The coffee, Dean,” Sam clarified. “It had milk in it. There’s still leftover froth in the cup.”

Dean stifled a burp. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Sam repeated with raised eyebrows. “How could you forget about it after it made you violently ill the _first_ time?”

Dean’s stomach gurgled noisily and he seemed to blanch even further. He pressed a fist to his mouth and turned his head away. “Can we argue about this later?”

Taking pity on his brother, Sam let out a sigh and placed a hand on his back.

Standing in the freezing cold, Sam rubbed his palm up and down Dean’s spine, while his brother kept gagging and heaving. There wasn’t much more to come up, and Sam winced every time Dean’s body shuddered.

“Shoot me now…” Dean groaned after a few minutes and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He coughed and spat out a glob of _something_.

“You done?” Sam asked, as he unscrewed the bottle of water and handed it over to his brother.

“Think so…” Dean replied and took a careful sip. He slowly straightened up, looking unsteady and still unwell. He placed a hand on his belly and winced. “My stomach’s killing me.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s what happens when you drink milk in your current condition,” he pointed out.

Dean glowered at him. “Current condition? You make it sound like I’m _pregnant_ , Sam.”

“Well, you do _look_ like you might be,” he joked, gaze flickering to his brother’s bloated middle.

The second the words left his mouth, Sam knew he shouldn’t have said them. Dean’s eyes flashed dangerously, and without saying another word, he brushed past his brother and stalked back to the Impala.

“Dean—”

“Get in.”

With a heavy sigh, Sam walked back to the car. Dean was already sitting in the driver’s seat with his hands clenched tightly around the wheel. He was staring straight ahead and didn’t even wait for Sam to close the door before speeding off.

The brothers didn’t talk for the next thirty miles, even though Sam kept glancing at Dean. Chewing on his bottom lip, he tried to figure out the best way to apologize to his brother. Dean wasn’t typically a sensitive person, but he was feeling unwell and probably out of his depths, and add that to the whole mess with Chuck and Sam saw that making that joke was stupid.

Another five miles went by and Sam noticed how sweat was starting to gather at Dean’s hairline. His face was once again a sickly shade of grey and he kept swallowing convulsively. When he suddenly clutched his stomach and the Impala fishtailed momentarily, Sam broke the silence, “Why don’t you let me drive, Dean.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sam huffed and moved closer to his brother. He placed his hand next to Dean’s on his stomach and rubbed softly. “I know your stomach's still hurting.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Dean growled, trying to shift away.

Sam highly doubted that. Dean’s belly wasn’t just bloated, it also felt firm and hot, and _not_ the sexy kind of hot.

“Come on, don’t be stubborn. Let me take the wheel for a while, while you get some shuteye,” he tried to convince his brother. “I can literally _feel_ your stomach cramps.”

Sam noticed the exact moment his brother gave in. Dean blew out a weary breath and relaxed, allowing his brother to gently sooth his tummy ache. “Fine,” he sighed, and pulled over.

They switched places and when Dean was settled as comfortably as possible in the passenger seat, Sam started the engine and pulled back onto the road. Pulling up the GPS on his phone, he looked at their current location and was surprised that they’d already crossed the border to North Dakota. He must have slept longer than he’d thought.

The Impala’s rumbling engine and his brother’s soft snores were both comforting noises, as Sam steered the car down the empty stretch of road.

He was startled when something bumped against his right shoulder ten minutes later. Looking down, he saw that Dean had slumped sideways and was now leaning against him, still fast asleep.

Dividing his attention between the road and his sleeping brother, Sam carefully maneuvered Dean into a horizontal position. When he was stretched out with his head pillowed on Sam’s thigh, he carefully tugged his brother’s shirt up a few inches and began rubbing his large hand over Dean’s stomach. Dean grunted, but eventually settled down again. With a smirk, Sam continued to sooth his brother's aching belly until they reached their next gas station pit stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean are on their way to Alaska, when they run into a bit of trouble along the way.

Dean was still asleep when Sam returned to their shared motel room a little after lunch. Closing the door as quietly as possible, he tiptoed to the small kitchen area and put down the takeout food he’d gotten. He glanced at his brother, wondering if he should wake him up or allow him a few more minutes of sleep.

Sam decided that Dean had earned the privilege of sleeping in after he drove for nine hours straight the day before. Sitting down at the table, Sam reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the two sandwiches he’d bought. He compared them, noting that one had _No Dairy_ written on its wrapper. He put that one back in the bag and unwrapped the other one.

Booting up his laptop, Sam looked for any signs of Chuck or that mysterious place in Alaska they were trying to reach. He checked various websites and forums, while devouring his sandwich.

When Dean woke up an hour later, Sam emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled at his brother. “Hey. You hungry?”

Dean’s eyes traveled down his brother’s naked body and he grinned. “Starving.”

“Not _that_ kind of hungry, you jerk,” Sam sighed. He grabbed the sandwich he’d put in the refrigerator and tossed it to his brother.

Catching it against his chest, Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Thanks.” He unwrapped it and sniffed. “Is it lactose free?”

“Of course,” Sam assured him, as he grabbed a set of fresh clothes from his bag. “I made sure they didn’t add any cheese or other dairy products.”

“Good,” Dean nodded and took a huge bite. “My stomach still feels off from last time,” he added, mouth full.

“Dude, swallow first,” Sam grimaced.

Dean just smirked and took another big bite of his late lunch.

Thirty minutes later, they were back on the road.

It was about an hour later that Dean announced they needed to stop for gas. He pulled up at a Gas-n-Sip and got out to fill up the Impala.

Sam climbed out of the car as well and headed inside to stock up on food and water. He took his time, picking out a variety of snacks and drinks. After he paid for the stuff and their gas, he headed back outside.

“Ready to go?” he asked his brother, who was standing next to the driver’s door with one hand on the Impala’s roof.

Dean pursed his lips. “Something’s wrong.”

Frowning, Sam glanced at their car but didn’t notice anything out of place. “What do you mean? She looks fine.”

Dean shifted on his feet and a grimace passed over his face. “No, it’s—” he cleared his throat. “My stomach feels weird.”

Alarm bells started to ring in Sam’s head. He quickly dumped the things he’d bought on the backseat and rushed to his brother’s side. “Weird as in _I-ate-too-much-weird_ or _I-am-lactose-intolerant-and-ate-something-I-should-not-have-weird?_ ”

Dean put a hand on his belly and swallowed thickly. “The latter.”

“But you didn’t have any dairy!” Sam yelped.

“Tell that to my gut,” Dean grunted. His stomach gurgled forebodingly and he belched into his closed fist. He winced. “I’m gonna be sick…”

Gripping his brother’s arm, Sam looked around frantically. He located the gas station’s restroom and hurriedly dragged Dean over there. Shouldering the door open, he steered his nauseous brother into the first stall and shoved the toilet seat up.

Dean dropped to his knees and gripped the edge of the bowl. He gagged and coughed, but didn’t bring anything up. He took a shuddering breath. “I hate this.”

Kneeling down next to his brother, Sam patted his back. “The diner must have mixed up the sandwiches.”

“Great,” Dean huffed. He burped wetly and spit into the toilet.

Sam started massaging Dean’s tense neck. Cold sweat had already soaked the collar of his brother’s shirt and his entire body was trembling. Sam bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I should have paid closer attention when they labeled the food,” he apologized guiltily.

“Not your fault,” Dean mumbled, followed by another belch. He curled forward and wrapped an arm around his middle. “God, my stomach hurts…”

Sam put one arm around his brother and kissed his sweaty temple. “Just let it out.”

That was all the encouragement Dean needed. Lurching forward, he threw up his lunch and the bottle of water he’d had. Each heave rocked his entire body and by the time he was done, he was flushed and drenched in sweat.

“You done?” Sam asked, when his brother reached up to flush.

“Yeah,” Dean replied wearily and clambered back to his feet. Sam put an arm under his elbow and led him over to the sink. “I’ll never get used to this, man,” Dean sighed after he’d washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth. He glared down at his belly and grumbled, “Traitor.”

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother from behind and put both palms flat against his stomach. There was still some gurgling and rumbling going on, but at least Dean seemed to be feeling better.

“We’ll fix this,” he said and kissed the spot behind Dean’s left ear.

Dean snorted. “If I live that long. I feel like next time I’ll puke out an organ or something.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Sam chuckled.

Dean sighed and sagged against his brother’s broad chest. “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, Sammy. My entire body aches and I feel so incredibly tired. And my stomach hurts all the damn time!”

“Dean,” Sam said quietly. He rubbed his warm palms over Dean’s stomach, offering whatever small comfort he could. “We will fix this,” he repeated. “I promise.”

“We better…” Dean muttered. “I miss my bacon cheeseburgers.”

Chuckling, Sam gave his brother one last peck. “Let’s get back on the road. We’re only a couple of hours from Alaska.”

Dean sighed. “We got this.”

“We got this,” Sam confirmed with a nod.


End file.
